Chapter 2 #2
I slam the drawer a few times before it finally sets itself right. “Can’t you tell?”
Sandy’s eyes are full of curiosity. She starts prancing around the room, pointing at things.
“Did you build that shelf?”
“Yes… about ten years ago.”
“And that?” She points at the wooden rocking chair by the window. “Did you build that?”
“I did. But I’d never sit in it.”
“Did you build this?”
“Yes…”
“That?”
“I did…”
“Oh. What about this?” Sandy sits on the edge of the bed and knocks the frame with her heel. “Did you build this?”
Seeing her on the bed, smiling at me, ignites a dangerous fire in my soul. I watch her toes wiggle, imagine myself peeling those socks off and kissing her from the soles of her feet to the peaks of her breasts.
Sandy catches my gaze and stops kicking her feet. She cocks her head at me.
“Yeah,” I say softly. “I built that.”
“Amazing. So quaint. Unique. Oh!”
She’s moving again. This girl is a ball of energy. It’s been so long since the lodge has felt this bright on a gray day.
“I’m a travel vlogger, like I said…” She rummages around in one of her bags, haphazardly tossing out sweatpants, a sweater, a little bag, and a bra before finally unveiling a black stick contraption.
Sliding her phone onto one end of the stick, she gestures to the room.
“I should have been shooting all of this. Scatterbrained, I guess. Would you mind if I got some clips?”
“Clips?”
“Yeah. Of the room. It’s lovely.”
“You can film whatever you want…” Why not? This place’s reputation is already in the dirt.
“Great!” Sandy runs out of the room, right out the door into the hall. She shuts the door behind her.
I watch the door, confounded. “Uh… what are you doing?”
“Intro footage! Recreating me walking into the room for the first time,” says her muffled voice.
“That makes… no sense.”
“Can you let me back in?” Her knuckles tap the door. “I forgot that you have the key.”
When I open the door, she strides in with the camera up.
“Wow! Look at this room!”
I dive out of the frame and press my back against the wall. Always hated being on camera…
Sandy steadily sweeps around, gushing over the furniture. “And the owner tells me that every single piece of furniture in the lodge was custom-built. Handmade! Can you believe that? Where else are you going to get such a unique stay?”
She winks at me dramatically.
I give her a thumbs up, still hiding from the camera.
“The fireplace. The view. A ton of books. Oh. I spot a few steamy romance novels up there. Wink, wink. Some rain to set the mood.” Before I can protest, she turns and points the camera at me.
“And Mr. Emmett Reins, the owner of the Willow Lake Lodge. He’s very personable.
Insisted on taking me to the room himself, giving me the grand tour. Say hello, Mr. Reins.”
Silently cursing, I step away from the wall.
“Uh…” I go rigid and bow. “Please, enjoy your stay.”
When I look up, Sandy is no longer filming me.
“Did you just bow?” she says, holding back laughter.
I straighten up. “I hate being on camera…”
“You did say I could film whatever I want.” She shrugs and tosses her phone on the bed. “Don’t worry, this video is going to be very flattering.”
I stare down at her. “Why?”
“Because this place is awesome.” Sandy shrugs. “And I like you.”
“You like me?”
“I mean… I like what you’ve done with the lodge….”
She’s blushing.
Am I really making this bubbly dream girl blush? Did I really wake up this morning, or am I still dreaming?
I smile and lean against the wall with one hand like an idiot. “Well, you did say I was hot.”
Am I flirting? God, it’s been… I’d say years, but that wouldn’t be true. Everyone who’s ever known me knows that Emmett Reins doesn’t flirt. He barely talks.
For some reason, Sandy makes me want to run my mouth like a faucet. Try to, anyway. Even when I want to speak, the words come out awkward and wobbly, like there’s a clog in my throat after years of no use.
“I did not say you were hot,” she insists, jabbing a finger at me, then her phone, then herself. “I was doing a bit for my channel. You wouldn’t get it unless you were an avid viewer. Very niche. And it definitely wouldn’t make sense if I explained it, so don’t ask me to.”
We stand here staring at each other, rain laughing at us from the window.
“I’m going to go now,” I say, slowly backing away. “Work to do…”
“Oh, right. Yeah. I’m beat. Time for a bath.”
“Please, let me know if you need anything.”
“Definitely.”
Just as I reach for the door, she calls out, “Emmett!”
“What!? What?” I rush back, wondering if she saw a spider that she needs destroyed. “What is it?”
Sandy nods toward the fireplace, hands behind her back, shoulders rolling upward in the most adorable movement I’ve ever seen.
“Could you start a fire, please?” she asks, voice soft.
That’s a face I am unable to say no to.
That’s a face I’d wait hand and foot on, just for a glimpse. To see that smile, I’d do anything.
Today, the customer is always right.
With a nod, I kneel and stack logs in the fireplace. I build this fire with a care that’s overkill. For her, I want it to last all night. I’d report every hour on the hour until sunrise to ensure that her fire burns steady and warm.
She called me Emmett…